


Few and Far Between

by indi_indecisive



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, excessive cum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 23:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13154748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indi_indecisive/pseuds/indi_indecisive
Summary: Jesse and Hanzo are apart for Christmas. Neither celebrate the holiday, but the joy of being with family is something that they both crave, whether they admit it or not.





	Few and Far Between

There was something to be said about being apart from another close to one's heart during the holiday season, even if it wasn’t a holiday celebrated. It was the thought of winter and the joy it was meant to bring to both the young and the old couples mingling about, and the lack of it all, for McCree that truly bothered him. He, unlike many others, didn’t get to celebrate with the one he loved most dearly; rolling onto his side now, Jesse splayed his palm flat against the bed sheets, squinting at the phone besides him. Dark brown eyes never leave the scene, waiting and wanting for it to light; he doesn’t know what time it was in Japan as he couldn’t bother himself to check it. Looking at his phone only filled his stomach with a sickening sense of dread. 

What if Hanzo had taken ill? What if he’d been caught by the authorities? Neither of them were exactly wanted members of their respected, and not, community, and where hunted ruthlessly by law enforcement. While Hanzo had said he would be fine, Jesse had to worry for him.

Jesse never worried for himself, in order to distract himself from such a self-centered abused, he had to worry about Hanzo Shimada.

Gaze never leaving the phone, his fingers twitched against the bed sheets, darting out every minute or two to run his thumb along its screen; bright lights would cut through the darkness, but the phone would stay on its lockscreen. Jesse never bothered to unlock it, thumb hovering just above, always hesitant to do anything that would show the fact he had no messages to respond to, at least not a message he wanted to respond to. 

If Hanzo wanted to call then he would, McCree wouldn’t try and hark him for anything he wouldn’t give; he wouldn’t have himself begging to be talked to the night before Christmas either. Hell, neither of them celebrated the damn holiday, but Jesse couldn’t help but use it as an excuse for wanting to talk, to distract himself with the Japanese man too many miles away for comfort. 

It had been a year of hating himself for having a boyfriend, if he was even bold enough to call Hanzo his boyfriend. Jesse wasn’t used to those relationships, he wasn’t used to using a man for anything but mindless sex. 

Jesse frowned, biting his lip in aggravation. He had to push away those thoughts, if not for himself, then for Hanzo.

In Hanzo’s own words, he wasn’t using him. It was a mutual want, and Jesse knew that it was, that was the only reason he was up at night, wasting away the hours as Christmas Eve turned to Christmas day, waiting for a phone call of confirmation that Hanzo Shimada was fine and safe in his hotel room in Japan. 

Oh God.

He pushed his palms against closed eyes, taking deep breaths to chase away and stave off the fear that sat heavy in the middle of his chest. Through his panic he almost missed the phones light cutting through the darkness once again, this time on its own volition, the sharp vibrations of an alert jostled the phone to slide just underneath Jesse’s armpit. In a rush to snatch the piece, he opened his eyes too quickly, squinting against the bright burn. 

“Hanzo?” He held his breath, counting to three.

One. Two. Three.

Waiting for a response was torture, all he could do was pray to a God he doubted he believed in, hoping that it was Hanzo Shimada on the other end and not some asshole asking for ransom or gloating about the death of the fabled Shimada assassin. 

“Hello, Jesse.”

Thank God. Thank whatever fucking God there was. He was alive, he was safe, and he sounded fine, albeit confused and tired. Jesse let out a shaky laugh, metal fingers running through his hair, smoothing it back off his forehead. He looked ridiculous with his hair pushed back, slick and sticking against the sheet, course it didn’t matter because he was alone tonight. He’d be alone for the next month, actually.

“Hey, honey.” The slang was still something he had to get used to meaning sincerely. Calling a man with such endearment and meaning it with more than his heart could ever provide was terrifying. “Was the flight okay?” He’ll start everything slow, act as if he wasn’t stressing out moments prior, about ready to rip out his eyes with all the waiting. 

Jesse yawned, closing his eyes once more, swapping the phone into his metal hand as he let the other rest against his chest, warm and organic fingers running through his chest hair; he rolled onto his back to better play with the thick thatch of hair, rumbling content as he soothed himself. 

One the other end of the line Hanzo chuckled, Jesse was certain he was laughing at someone else. He could hear another voice talking about the hotel privacy, and Jesse didn’t mind peaking in on the conversation. it meant Hanzo was safe and checking into his hotel. It seemed he needed every scrap of evidence that would prove the man was safe.

“It was a … long flight. They didn’t offer me a drink.” 

“No way.” Jesse found laughter bursting free, spreading his legs just slightly, the sheets were cold and felt perfect against his naked body. A man could sleep in the nude, who gave a damn? “They didn’t offer you a drink at all? What’s the arline you took again, I reckon I’ll be having a word with them about respect.”

Another laugh from Hanzo, and this time Jesse knew it was directed to him. That beautiful, harsh and sweet laughter. It hit Jesse straight in the chest, made him feel nothing but warmth and safety.

Over the line he could hear the clicking of a key, guessing that Hanzo was in his room by what sounded like a door being shut and locked. Then there was a rustling he couldn’t quite make out, but Hanzo released a satisfied groan, and Jesse could only imagine the man was finally laying down on a bed, letting out the tension from the flight. 

“What a sight that would be,” Hanzo began, more rustling over the line suggested he was getting even more comfortable, “A disgruntled man assaults flight attendant for not offering another man a drink.”

“Well, a man needs himself a stiff drink every now and then, sugar. You can’t blame me for wanting to correct such an awful travesty.” With eyes kept closed, Jesse let his hand go from tugging and combing through his thick chest hair to trailing slowly, teasingly along his abdomen. He gave a pinch to his stomach here and there, the way Hanzo liked to do it. The man had always made loving comments on Jesse’s chub, he made Jesse love his chub too. “You plan on pouring yourself one later?”

“Later … yes. I plan to … drink.”

Jesse couldn’t make out the exact noise he was hearing, but with how content and relaxed Hanzo sounded, his curiosity became piqued. It seemed all of Hanzo’s arrogance and anger was left at the door, or packed away in one of those bags of his, and Jesse would have laughed at the thought, he would have even asked if Hanzo was an aggressive drunk if his ears hadn’t caught a noise so telling he could have choked. 

Jesse's  own breath caught in his throat, the sound had his opening his eyes, as if sight was going to make his hearing a thousand times better. There it was, that lewd and slick sound. Well fuck. If Hanzo was going to play dirty like that, Jesse wasn’t going to open his mouth and accidentally ruin it. 

“-- Jesse?” It was a wonder how Hanzo was capable of keeping his voice steady and calm. Maybe he was playing with jesse, because he’s very certain that Hanzo knew the cowboy could hear him furiously beating off as if his life was depending on cuming. 

He must have been using lubricant with how slick and sloppy he sounded. Jesse hoped it was that sweet stuff, he’d always been fond of strawberry lube.

“Y-Yes, sugar?” Jesse was breathless, his hand naturally dipping lower, fingers smoothing through the thick thatch of pubic hair. Curly, dark brown hairs that made his balls jiggle just a bit, had him feeling right good when he tugged them harshly. 

“I am--”

“Being naughty?” Jesse cocked twitched, a tingle in his stomach, and he curled his toes against the sheets. “You’re being naughty, ain’t you?” He doesn’t yet dare touch himself, fingers busily tugging his curls, jostling his sack with low and soft huffs of want.

“I’m … tired, Jesse,” The sight that left Hanzo’s lips was enough to confirm his suspicions. Hanzo was touching himself over the phone, trying to relax from all the stress that had been building up, with a familiar voice and an even more familiar hand. Jesse couldn’t blame him, not at all. “I wouldn’t be--”

“I know, baby. I know you don’t do these things.” They were considered uncouth. The type of activity for a bachelor in their twenties and not a very tired, aging man smacked in the middle of an unwanted war. 

Jesse’s tongue scraped the underside of his teeth, looking for the words. “Let me take care of you, darling. Mind putting me on speaker?”

There’s more rustling on the other end, and Jesse took the moment to adjust the phone. He could hear Hanzo shifting on the sheets of his bed. “You all settled now?”

Hanzo whined, low and sweetly. “J-Jesse.”

“Can I touch myself too, Hanzo?” Jesse felt selfish, dirty, and he bite his tongue once the question was asked. He’d been abusing their relationship, no matter what Hanzo said to him when Jesse asked for sex. It didn’t matter if Hanzo said yes, it still felt wrong to fuck him. It must have felt that way because they were together. Boyfriends, not fuck toys, living in the middle of a war, and Jesse hated himself in those rich moments where he forget about the world in favor of loving the man that entered his life quick and quietly. A man, no less. “I- I reckon I don’t have to, but I’d like to be able…”

“You … you can, Jesse.” Hanzo cut him off quick, words were short and to the point, a telltale sign he was needy. Then again, there never seemed to be a moment where Hanzo spent hours beating around a bush, only ever beating dead horses with him. “I’d like you to. I’d prefer it.”

Jesse gripped the base of his cock, taking a sharp breath as his dick hardened in hand. “That’s .. damn, that’s good, baby.” It made him feel better, definitely. He’d start stroking himself slowly, not focused on his own pleasure, although he spread his legs out. Adjusting the phone in hand, his metal fingers nearly dented the device. “Do you know what I want to do to you, Hanny?”

He’d use pet names like he was buttering toast. Liberally, with a sprinkling of sugar.

“Tell me.” He was impatient, Jesse could tell by the sharp delivery of his words, the deep intake of air. Hanzo couldn’t cum, too stressed out, and it frustrated the man to no end.

“I’d have you on your back.” Jesse wasn’t quite used to talking like this, he wasn’t used to anything but a quick fuck and go, but Hanzo was a man that showed him more wonders than just new ways to have sex. He was a damaged perfection, and Jesse had to be right about that. “I’d have my mouth and hands all over those perfect tits of yours, and I reckon you’d be mewling with each sloppy kiss. Oh baby … I’d take both your tits and squeeze them real good.” Imagining it now, how perfect and right it felt to take each one in hand, and Jesse would keep stroking himself slowly, focusing on keeping his breathing under control. 

On the other end Hanzo was panting, and Jesse could imagine he was taking a tit in hand, trying to massage himself the way Jesse did; it was no use, at least in Jesse’s mind, as long as it wasn’t his hands then it wouldn’t be the same.

Jesse squeezed his cock, groaning, getting into the scene. “Ever thought about me fucking those perfect tits of yours, Hanzo? Reckon it’ll be a bit of work, but it’d feel damn good on my cock to fuck you like that.” Hanzo moaned, and Jesse stopped to listen, chest tightening. “Oh baby, I’d be fucking your tits until you’re begging for me to stop. I’d give a load to that pretty face of yours, watch that pretty white cum drip across your lips.”

The laughter on the other end was breathy and ragged, followed by a low, needy moan. It wasn’t enough, doing this lewd act over the phone, imagining Jesse hands and cock all over his body. Spirits, it wasn’t enough to imagine it, but he’d take it.

They both would, too desperate to be loved to understand that they didn’t have to take the bare minimum of love.

“And after that?” Jesse betrayed himself, picking up the pace as he jerked himself off, legs spreading wide enough that an ache formed in his upper thighs, sack slapping against the sheets. “Oh, sugar. After that I’d eat your ass out until you’re dripping your slick all down my chin and chest. I’m … I’m going to have you soaking my beard before I finally give you what you want.”

Hanzo whimpered. Low, hot, and needy. Jesse wanted nothing more than to do what he said he would do. Oh God, he wanted to take Hanzo against the wall, a counter, the bed. Anything that he could fuck him raw on, he wanted to take him. He loved how he begged, “Oh … Oh Jesse. Please, more-- please, Jesse. More.”

With a rumbling moan the cowboy could feel heat hitting his gut like a freight train, pre-cum slicking his cock, making both ends of the line sound like an amateur porn video. “Are you close, baby? I’m so close… Just imaging your tight hole around my cock, the way you’d be squirming and moaning.” He moaned, “Oh, I want you.” His head pressed against the sheets, legs spread as far as they could go, something raw and primal ripped free from Jesse’s throat as fingers continued to work him through his orgasm. Cum splattered the blanket, thick white ropes spilling between his fingers, smearing against his abdomen. He kept pumping until it hurt to touch his cock, hand coated in spunk, and he let his dick go soft against his abdomen in a pool of his own finish.

He’d always been one to cum excessively, and damn, if it wasn’t always hot to watch Hanzo lick it all up with a scrunched noise at the salt taste.

Trying to listen through his own huffs and moans of an orgasm, Jesse wanted to hear Hanzo, make sure that he’d finished as well. Over the phone he could hear the heavy panting of his love and the wild creaking of a bed.

Hanzo was fucking the mattress, fingers curled tightly in the sheets, stuffing his face against the bed as he sought out any friction he could get.

Jesse’s dick twitched lazily in interest. “Baby?” Another breath, he listened to the creaking of the bed become even more erratic, and the frantic and desperate grunts from Hanzo. “Oh baby. Fuck me. Is that what you’re imagining right now? Having me against that bed, taking me for all I’m worth, fucking me until I’m soaking the sheets with cum?” Jesse spoke through a post orgasmic haze, words thickened with sleep. The man was dirty and sticky with his own semen, but he wouldn’t sleep until Hanzo had finished.

“O-Oh, Hanzo.” He moaned out, low and needy. “Oh Hanzo, baby. I- I need you to love me.”

The creaking slowed and eventually stopped, Jesse could hear muffled panting over the line, and he could imagine Hanzo cuming so hard that he convulsed. Chest tightening, body shaking as he covered himself in spunk; it would be a sight for sore eyes, and Jesse’s were burning from the light of the phone.

“... Jesse.” Hanzo sounded exhausted, taking in deep and shaky breaths. “I … I need to clean myself.”

It was a comfort to be used and abandoned, even if Hanzo didn’t mean it as such, even if Jesse knew that Hanzo would stay on the line until Jesse inevitably passed out. “Course you do, honey. I don’t mind.” The man would cling to that abandoned comfort, pretending that he was just another mans pocket pussy or personal phone sex line. It wasn’t the truth, the statement was far from it, but Jesse could pretend to sleep better; it was no different than phone sex, pretending the man he loved was there to love and be loved. “Clean up,” He’d laugh, hand wiping sweat from his forehead, only smearing cum across his skin.

Fuck.

“Jesse?” Hanzo’s voice was steady again, but Jesse doubted he’d moved yet, simply relaxing post orgasm.

Reaching blind for the sheets, Jesse wiped the spunk off his forehead before it dried to a crust. He’d leave the cum on his stomach, the sheets already stained. “Yeah, sugar?”

“I know that you do not … and that I do not either, but it is--” Hanzo sighed, seemingly taking the time to find the appropriate words. Jesse knew, the second he opened his mouth, what he meant to say. “Merry Christmas, Jesse McCree.”

“I miss you too, Hanzo Shimada.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Buy me a loot box?](https://ko-fi.com/A0034NN)


End file.
